Like wind falling into your lap
Tangible cruelty
And supression from above
Guiding and drifting me
To chaotic clouds and chilling storm
Pushing
Pulling
Begging me to excel
And instead -
I release.
I release the good
And the ugly
The cruelty
And the envy
Grit
And reward
And the scrutiny -
Oh, the scrutiny.
You beg me not to quiet
To savour each breath
And yet...
And yet, I continue
Simply becase it is you who asks it of me
Like the breath of the whippoorwhill
On the collar of the wild
And find that loneliness was not my truth,
But a place of mind
One now filled,
Hoplessly
Ceaselessly
With images
Of you
Behind bed sheets
Around corners
Echoing laughter
And pleasured sighs
And though it took risk,
I was always capable
Of demand
And delivery
and now
Tis' I
That sees me
For the you,
You taught me to be.
-P.S. Irian
